Trouble in a PushUp Bra
by kasey8473
Summary: AU. Meg decides to relieve her boredom by playing with Jo, Sam, and Dean.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Trouble in a Push-up Bra  
Chapter: One  
Summary: AU. Meg decides to relieve her boredom by playing with Jo, Sam, and Dean.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is meant with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Trying my hand at writing something a little longer.

* * *

The woman in the mirror was petite and blond. Pretty. Innocent looking, if there was such a thing really. Inconspicuous. Unthreatening. The list could go on and on.

Meg was counting on the boys thinking of her as all those things like they did already. They wouldn't see her coming just like Jo hadn't seen her. She wondered how long she could keep them all distracted.

Meg wasn't her name, not really, but she'd grown rather attached to it. That girl had served her purposes well. She raised a brow, ran her hosts's fingers through the long hair, shook her head. It had been awhile since she'd inhabited a human with really long hair like this. If she recalled correctly, she liked having long hair, but short was ever more practical. This woman though, she had a pretty good body, too. Always a plus. She planned to take advantage of that.

"I know you're awake in there, sweetie. Remember me?" She leaned close to the mirror. "My daddy shot your daddy in the head," she sing-songed, with a tiny little satisfied smile and a giddy giggle. "Oh, good times! Did you think I wouldn't come find you after I got kicked out of Sammy-boy? I liked you, Joanna Beth Harvelle. You showed gumption, trying to brain us with a beer bottle. I couldn't forget that. I couldn't not notice how useful you could be to me."

There wasn't a single thing this woman could do to dislodge her. The boys could though. Dean would probably remember to break the binding link Meg had put on Jo Harvelle like that annoying Bobby had with Sam, but would he even think to look for one? After all, he knew Jo and he _was_ the naughty, naughty horny one of the two brothers, always humping some girl at the blink of an eye, like a dog in heat. What woman _didn't_ want Dean Winchester, sex god in his own mind? Jo had already indicated her willingness to get physical with him.

Meg had gotten a bit smarter on where she put the link this time. No visible spot on the forearm. It was on Jo's hip, covered like a fresh wound. She didn't plan on letting Dean take off that bandage. Tease in a breathless voice about what it was perhaps. Tell him it was a souvenir of a job recently finished -- which in a way it was. She could tell him that what was under the bandage was the precipitator of a fresh outlook on life. But take that bandage off for full disclosure? Nope. She was confident in her ability to distract him if he did focus on the bandage.

And when she was done playing with Dean…. There was more fun to be had with Sam. Meg had learned a few things from and about Sammy-boy in that week inside him. He really did like and care for Jo as more than a friend; thought she was the sort of girl a guy could settle down with and the knowledge that she was infatuated with Dean annoyed him. Why Dean and not him? Why was it always Dean? Seriously, _always_? Shouldn't there be some sort of odds against that?

As for Dean, he didn't consider Jo a school-girl, not like Meg had said in Duluth. He wanted her. He'd admitted it. It was a true fact and everything.

Both of them wanted to protect her.

There was a reason Meg had gone to Jo when inhabiting Sam. More than one, actually. Both of the boys wanted her, Dean blatantly, Sam secretly. Both wanted to protect her, keep her safe from this life. They'd yet to realize that there was no such thing as safety. It was all an illusion. Hunters liked to think that they had an exclusive ear to the big bad happenings of the world, but anyone at anytime could be made aware of…things.

Sam and Dean could be made to become jealous of the other. Meg was sure of it. Jealousy could be made to turn violent and violence was very good for Meg's morale. Jealousy was such an amusing thing to work with. A glance at a certain time, a touch at another, pointed conversation. It was a skill to bring on jealousy and she wanted to try out her skills, maybe sharpen them up. Even if they didn't come to blows or anything, feelings could fester rather nicely. In the end, it was all good. Well…depending on one's point of view.

As for Jo, there was still work to be done with her. Meg looked forward to completing that work begun weeks earlier. She'd been plotting the moves to make for quite some time now and if everything went to plan, she'd be beyond pleased.

Meg was out for entertainment of her own making now. Screw plans for winning the war, she just wanted to have some fun until time ran out and the final countdown to the apocalypse began. Her run in Sam had been enjoyable until Bobby and Dean had ousted her. Now, Meg was looking forward to amusing herself by toying with Jo, Sam, and Dean all at once.

"We're going to have such fun. You need to have some fun in your life. For a single woman in her twenties, you're damn dull, Jo. But, you know what? I think Sam likes you. Didn't you notice? He's such a quiet boy though. I'm not surprised you never looked at him twice. Dean's the easy one. He's got some potent pheromones. Women like those bad boys and Dean.… Well, let's just say he's not the most discriminate guy. He'll screw any woman with decent tits and ass. Speaking of which…" She peeled off the two shirts Jo had put on before Meg had found her, snorted at the underwear Jo wore. "White? Snooze fest. Where's your sense of sexy, Jo? Please tell me that everything you own isn't Hanes Her Way. We'll have to be doing some shopping if it is." Striding to Jo's bag, Meg rifled through it, finally pulling out a bright red bra and matching panties. The fabric was silky, the bra slightly padded. She uttered a pleased exclamation. "This is more like it. I think they'll like us in red, don't you?"

If something physical happened with either or both, the more the better. Best to dress to please on the outset, right? How far could she push them? At what point would suspicion collide with desire and create rash action that would end in a culmination of her plan for all three of them?

Meg changed underwear and dressed, humming as she did so. She pulled on the low-rise jeans that Jo had set out, drew on a blouse that she left unbuttoned right to the bra, and donned Jo's boots. Carefully, she took every item from Jo's bag, studied them and put them back except one. She held up the pink plastic birth control packet, "Standard clinic issue, I see," tossed it into the trash can. "It's so inconvenient taking a pill every day. I don't think I will." Let Jo stew about that inside. _Whatever_ did her new-found roommate Meg have planned for her? Oh, no…surely not the obvious! She zipped the bag closed. Who cared if Jo got pregnant? Meg would simply haul ass out of her and leave her that way. It'd cause plenty of anguish, especially if Jo was unaware of just which Winchester she'd been screwing around with. Very appealing. "Do you think they're safety boys? I should hope Dean is the way he screws around, but you never know. Could be some amusing surprises in store for you later."

She checked the room for missed items, put her hands on Jo's hips -- hers now.

"You see, sweetie, I've been studying you, watching, waiting, learning. I've decided to be you for awhile." She returned to the mirror. "You're going to thank me, Jo-Jo. Really, you are. You're about to have the time of your life. Sit back and enjoy the ride."

Scooping up the car keys, Meg shouldered Jo's bag and left the motel room, not bothering to check out. On the way to the car, she took out Jo's phone, thumbed through the contacts listed, found the one she wanted and dialed. It didn't take long to set up a meeting.

* * *

As terrifying as it was to see the black smoke coming at her, it was far more so to realize it had taken over her body. Jo struggled against the demon's hold, cringing inside her own body at the dirty feeling she now had. She felt like she'd swallowed sewage, leaving a nasty taste and foul residue throughout her body.

Soiled. Unclean.

The link seared onto her hip made the sensation worse.

A wave of exhaustion swept over her.

It was the weirdest sensation to be in her body and not in control. She could feel everything, just not direct movement or speak. If Jo could have screamed in frustration she would have, but nary a sound slipped from her lips by her volition. All she could do was watch and listen.

_My daddy shot your daddy in the head. _

Oh crap.

It hadn't occurred to her that that demon would come after her and not after time had passed.

Jo shook off as much of the increasing lethargy as she was able, listening to the demon's plans with a growing sense of violation. If she understood it correctly, it intended to seduce both Sam and Dean if it could. Right. Like that was going to work. Good luck, Chuck. The demon had to be lying. They were good at that, mixing lies and truth when they wanted and spouting lies the rest of the time.

So what was truth this time? Anything?

It wasn't going to work. Sam and Dean were going to see right through her in seconds. At least Jo prayed they would.

A haze began to cover her vision and Jo ceased to be aware of what was happening.

* * *

Sam dug his phone out, glanced at the number, and frowned as he answered it. Why was Jo Harvelle calling him? She'd never indicated wanting contact before, leaving his calls to see how she was after Duluth unanswered.

"Sam? Hi, it's Jo."

"Yeah, I know. How are you?" 'Jo', he mouthed to Dean, who sat up on his bed with a surprised expression.

"I'm good. Where are you guys?" His reply elicited a pleased murmur. "I'm only a couple hours away. How fortuitous!"

Fortuitous? That didn't sound like a word Jo would use. Sam held the phone from his ear, blinked, shook his head and put it back. She was asking if they'd meet her. "You want to meet us," he asked, partly to have her affirm it and partly for Dean's reaction.

Dean, eyes wide, got up from the bed, holding his hand out and waving his fingers. "Gimme the phone. Let me talk to her." He snapped his fingers impatiently. "Hand it over."

Ignoring Dean, Sam told her their exact location.

"I'll be there in a couple hours. Should I come to your motel then, or do you have some other place in mind?"

"We'll be at the 'Kill 'em and Grill 'em' Diner."

Their was silence for a second and then Jo started laughing. "You're kidding, right? The 'Kill 'em and Grill 'em' Diner?"

"The area is a little…rural," he explained. "A lot of game hunters come through here."

She was still laughing when he hung up. "Jo's on her way."

"You didn't let me talk to her."

"You've got her number. Call her back on _your_ phone." He removed his laptop from it's bag and set it on the table.

Dean looked at him like he was an idiot. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to pretend I lost her number." This was said in the sort of tone one used to explain something to a very small child.

Sam lifted the lid of his laptop and booted it up. "Why do you have to pretend you lost her number?" Did he really want to know the answer to that? Knowing Dean, there could be multiple reasons for it.

"There's a slight chance I promised to call her and may have forgotten to after Duluth. She's probably still pissed with me."

"You promised to call her and didn't? Dean…." Sam shrugged. "She didn't sound pissed."

"They never do until you're within throwing range." His gaze shifted a little to the right. "Or shooting range."

"Right." Sam processed that a moment, then turned his attention to the research he was working on. Might as well get some research done while they waited for time to meet her.

* * *

Jo was coming on to him. Wasn't she? Sam didn't think he was imagining it.

Her fingers stroked up and down his right forearm, a light touch that could in no way be mistaken for anything but flirtatious.

Sam glanced at Dean, whose brows were raised nearly to his hairline. Jo's playful gestures hadn't been lost on him. Upon entering the diner, she'd completely ignored Dean and greeted Sam with a smile, as though Duluth had never happened and Dean wasn't sitting right there.

"When did I become the Invisible Man," Dean had muttered. "Nice to see you, too Jo."

Jo hadn't even blinked, turning her full attention onto Sam. Maybe she really _was_ mad at Dean, giving him the silent treatment like that.

He'd been expecting a wary reception, maybe some speech about how she wasn't sure she could trust him again, or perhaps a stilted conversation that completely bypassed the elephant in the room. That was not at all the case. She was…talkative.

Dean's brows lowered into a puzzled frown.

No kidding, bro, he thought. I'm a little puzzled by this myself.

Jo flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Look, I know you'd never have attacked me of your own volition. I don't know what I was thinking even entertaining thoughts of you as a violent rapist. I should have realized in seconds you were possessed. Can you forgive me for that assumption?" Her smile was pretty and gaze pleading. "See, I'm not mad at you. I'm not scared of you, because it wasn't you."

"I tried calling. You never answered or called back. I assumed you didn't want to talk about it, at least not with me. I decided not to push it. If you wanted to call, you'd call."

"I did call. Here I am now, ready to talk…and mend our friendship. We're friends, right Sam?"

"Yeah, I thought we were."

Dean tapped a foot in rapid staccato beats on the floor. A quick glance showed him probably a minute away from some sort of sarcastic quip.

Jo glanced at the table and back at Sam. "I had to think it all through. For awhile I _was_ scared. And hurt and confused, but now…I'm not. It's all in the past, right?" Her teeth grazed her lower lip. "Forgive me?"

Forgive her? Sam glanced down now at the hand on his arm. She seemed sincere, but shouldn't he be apologizing to _her_? "I guess we're good, Jo," he told her.

"Great!" She slid her fingers along his arm one last time before taking his hand in hers. "I really hate being at odds with you both." Her thumb swept across the back of his hand.

At last, a mention of Dean at least. Sort of.

Jo tilted her head a little, eyes widening a fraction.

It wasn't his imagination, he decided. Jo really was coming on to him, which was weird because it was Dean she had the hots for and all three of them knew it. Maybe this was an attempt to get some rise of jealousy from Dean or something? He supposed it was possible, though he hadn't thought Jo the sort of girl to try that tactic.

Weird.

"Tell me what you've been up to," she said, still ignoring Dean's presence.

"Um…we opened a gate into hell," Sam offered with a shrug.

She nodded. "Yeah, I heard about that one. What else?"

"That's not big enough for you on the activity scale," Dean asked. "You thinkin' maybe we've done something to top that?"

Jo released Sam's hand and sat back in her chair. She turned her head, looking at Dean with raised brows, acknowledging him. "Oh, it's big, but I've already heard about it."

"From who?"

"Oh, just, I don't know, _everybody_. It's huge news, like epic. Set a lot of things free, didn't you?" There was a little bit of ice in her smirk.

"We had help," he bit out.

Now she touched Dean's arm. "All I'm saying is that I knew about it and what else has there been, okay, Mr. Touchy-pants?"

"Touchy pants?"

Jo grinned.

Sam smothered a smile.

She turned back to him, still grinning. "I'm dying for news, here. Regale me with tales of your adventures."

"Regale you?" Across the table, Dean shifted slightly towards her, made a noisy sniff, shook his head and crossed his arms. "You lookin' for bedtime stories?"

"It's not bedtime, Dean."

"It is somewhere."

Jo leaned towards him. "Does that mean you _want_ to tell me a bedtime story, or just skip the story and go straight to bedtime?"

Sam cleared his throat. Going right to it, wasn't she? Now she appeared be starting to hit on Dean. For a second he thought she was going to say something more, but then she backed down, returning her attention back to him.

"Okay, we'll talk about something else, I suppose."

* * *

While she hadn't thought they'd be stupid enough to keep running around without some kind of protection against possession, Meg had hoped they hadn't gotten this smart about it. She could feel the power of the charm flowing across Sam's skin, and Dean's too when she grazed her fingers against his arm.

Tattoos. Had to be. The charm was too integrated in them to be a separate thing. Damn. She'd been thinking how nice it'd be to ride in Dean for awhile, give him something to think about.

A girl could have a lot of fun with these two boys, regardless. Maybe she could flay the skin with the tattoo away and jump inside?

* * *

"Is she drunk," Sam asked as Jo disappeared into the women's restroom. "High maybe?"

"You smell anything on her? Booze? Pot?" Dean crossed his arms on the table edge.

"Why are you asking me? You were the one with your nose down her cleavage."

"I was looking at her necklace. She was showing it to me."

"She was showing you something all right," Sam quirked a brow.

Dean's own brows lifted and fell in a shrug. "Jealous?"

He made a scoffing noise, shifted in his chair, glanced around the room and shook his head in denial, "No."

A grin split Dean's features. "Dude, you are so jealous."

Sam scowled. "I am not. It's Jo we're talking about here. _Jo_."

"Red and lacy, Sammy. Red and lacy."

* * *

It was Dean's turn to scowl as Jo got up to go look at the dessert case. "Tell me that was a thong I saw," he demanded, watching the sway of Jo's hips and trying to decide if he could see panty lines or not.

Sam gave him a smug smirk. "Gentleman never tell."

"Oh please. Save the gentleman crap for women. Was that a 't' riding up or what? Come on, Sam I told you about her lacy red bra. The least you can do is tell me about her underwear after she had you groping her ass--"

Sam shook his head. "She hadn't put her belt through that loop," he protested. "I was fixing it for her."

"She could've done that herself. She was asking to be groped. It's gotta be a t-back," he speculated. "Nothing else would fit under those jeans. God bless ultra low-rise. " He thought about that a second. "T-back or nothing. Hmm. Now that raises some --"

"Dean," Sam interrupted his vocal assumption.

"What?"

"It matches the bra."

"Yeah?' He paused. "But is it a thong or not? These are the sort of important questions that need to be answered."

* * *

Sam watched Jo chatting with the cashier a second, then glanced at Dean. "I think I could have done without the tongue piercing discussion."

Dean stared at him. "Dude, you ever been blown by a girl with a tongue piercing?"

"Um…let me think. No."

"It's not an experience you should miss out on. Trust me on this. You'll thank me."

Sam blinked. "Right." He pondered the discussion and Jo. "But why would _Jo_ want to do that?"

"Do what? Blow you or get a tongue piercing?"

He made a face at Dean, who snickered.

"I don't know." Dean shrugged. "She's in an experimentation phase?"

"You wish," Sam snorted.

Dean didn't dispute the charge.

"Come on, Dean. This is Jo we're talking about." Sam looked back at Jo, wondering what was going on. "Granted it's been a long time since we saw her last, but I don't think she'd change this much."

"Maybe she has. Ellen didn't exactly let her run wild, you know."

"Yeah, I guess." Still, something felt off.

* * *

"You feeling okay, Jo?" Dean completely gave up trying for subtlety.

"Never better, Dean. You could say I've got a new perspective on life." Her grin was mischievous.

A new perspective? What the hell did that mean? Dean gave his head a little shake. Jo had to be riding some kind of high. The way she was behaving? Wild. Sam was right. Not like her usual self as they knew her.

He watched Sam suddenly sit up really straight, surprise, discomfort, and a hint of need sliding across his features in rapid succession as he glanced down at his lap. His reply to whatever Jo had said was strained, his expression almost…hunted. Dean smirked, resisted the urge to laugh. Jo was groping Sam under the table, her laugh throaty and amused. Way to go, Sammy, he thought. Good thing they were in a dark corner of this dive. A light snicker burst free, Sam shooting an irritated 'I'm glad you're finding amusement at my expense' glare his way.

Jo turned her head to look at him. "So, Dean," she began before her other hand began doing some interesting things under the table in his direction.

"Yeah," he managed, wondering if his expression had just frozen into a deer in the headlights manner like he thought it had.

Very, very interesting things were happening and all the while she had that innocent gleam in her eyes.

"Whatcha been up to? You've been quiet, letting Sam do all the talking. Here I thought Sam was the _big_, strong, quiet one."

He had to really concentrate on her words. She seemed to know just what she was doing….

Dean started sweating.

* * *

Meg couldn't resist making them a little uncomfortable.

Then ramped it up a notch.

* * *

"Ice cream?" Jo gestured at the storefront. "My treat." Her voice was coaxing.

Sam was about to refuse, but Dean, with ever the sweet tooth, shrugged.

"Sure. You're buying, Jo, I'm there."

"You can have _anything_ you want," she assured him, touched her tongue briefly to the side of her mouth, then turned her attention to Sam. "Both of you can. Anything at all."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sam shook his head. "It's twenty-six degrees out. I think I'll pass on the ice cream."

"Your loss," Jo remarked, entering the shop.

Dean hit his arm. "What's wrong with you? Free food."

"It's not free, Dean. Jo's paying."

"Same difference." He snorted. "I don't have to shell out for it, means it's free."

It was warm and fragrant in the shop, the air redolent of vanilla, chocolate, and butterscotch. Sam almost regretted his refusal, but the sight of the monstrous concoction Dean was having the guy behind the counter construct turned his stomach. It'd probably taste good, yet looked like it had been regurgitated. Chocolate sauce, caramel and butterscotch sauce, strawberry sauce, nuts, chocolate chips, all kinds of sprinkles, and more completely covered several scoops of unidentifiable ice cream. Sam bet himself that Dean would have a stomachache later, along with a huge dose of denial as to the cause of that ache.

Jo's eyes widened and she swept her glance down Dean and back up. "Hell on a stick, Dean, where do you put all that food you scarf down?"

"I have a gift," he replied, taking the dish and carrying it to a table.

She looked a little dazed, recovering as Sam watched, and smiling. "Sure you won't have something?"

"Nah, I'm good." Sam turned to join Dean.

"I'll bet you are, honeybunch," Jo murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, yet when he looked back, she was giving her order.

Honeybunch?

This just kept getting stranger and stranger. It looked like Jo, sounded like Jo, for the most part talked like Jo…yet Sam had the feeling that this wasn't Jo. Her behavior was off. He supposed a new outlook on life could account for that. Or not. He watched her a bit closer when she joined them at the table, working out in his mind what could be causing this change.

* * *

The way Jo was licking that ice cream cone was making things a might tight below the belt area. Dean didn't believe for one second that she was oblivious to the reaction he was having -- and Sam and the guy behind the counter too by their enraptured expressions.

Geez, he thought, lowering his gaze to briefly study the remains of his sundae. You'd think Sam had never watched a woman eat an ice cream cone in a suggestive manner before. His mouth was open and Dean would swear he saw a string of drool starting to hang out.

Reaching for a napkin, he wiped his own mouth and chin.

Jo was focused on that cone, enjoying it a little too much for plain ice cream. It was chocolate, but still….

There was a gentle pop, a little slurp, and Jo was done with the cone. She'd managed to suck the ice cream out of the unbroken sugar cone and now showed off that empty cone with a little smirk.

"Now that's an awesome power," he remarked.

"I can tie knots in cherry stems with my tongue, too."

"Huh. How about that?"

Standing, Jo moved to the door, pausing before she stepped out. "You guys coming?"

Nice choice of words, Dean drawled to himself. Intentional? He mulled over her behavior. She was playing games. Nothing wrong with games, just that Jo didn't play games like this. She'd flirt a little, yeah, but nothing like this.

Mentally, he went over possible reasons for this change in established behavior.

PMS? While some women he'd known had claimed to get really horny around that time, he didn't believe that affected anything. Course, he wasn't a doctor, he just played one with women whenever he got a chance.

Drugs? Alcohol? He didn't think either was her thing. Not to excess anyway and certainly not the sort that'd put her in this kind of…what?…mood?

Was she maybe bat-shit crazy? He'd never seen any evidence of that. She was stubborn, determined, sassy…but not crazy.

What else was there? He went down a list of possibilities. Maybe he was getting paranoid, because all he could think about now was one thing and not what she was intending: possession. If she _was_ possessed, this was going to be a bitch to take care of.

"We'll…uh…" Sam cleared his throat. "We'll be right there."

The door closed and they watched her cross the street to their cars.

"Now I'm sure she's messing with us." Sam pointed in Jo's direction.

"Of course she's messing with us. She's a woman. That's what they do."

"No, I mean _messing_ with us. That's not Jo out there, Dean. I think she's possessed."

He picked up his bowl, stood and dumped it in the trashcan on his way toward the door. "You just now figuring that out? A little slow today, aren't you Sammy?"


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Trouble in a Push-up Bra  
Chapter: Two  
Summary: AU. Meg decides to relieve her boredom by playing with Jo, Sam, and Dean.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is meant with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

"Like you had it figured out any earlier than I did."

They were heading back to their cabin. Sam actually like it. It wasn't as weird as some of the places they'd stayed. They'd requested one further out from the road and been given the one way back from the rest. The owner didn't care which one they took. According to him, any business was good business.

"Prove it." Dean glanced at the rearview mirror. Jo was following them in her own car.

"Think it's any demon we already know?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. We've pissed off a lot of them." He drove in silence for a couple minutes, then glanced askance at him. "One does come to mind though, one who admitted she no longer cares to follow any plans. Gotta admit, Sam, Jo's behavior hasn't been usual demon behavior. Seduction, but no coaxing to give her our souls. Nothing like that. Playing us off each other is something Meg'd do if she thought she could get us to beat each other bloody."

"If it's her, she'll have locked herself inside Jo." He rubbed his fingers on his inner right forearm. Sam was intimately familiar with her methods.

"We'll have to search her." Dean laid out a quick plan, but it would necessitate getting Jo to leave for awhile.

It wasn't the best of plans, but it was something. Maybe they'd have some luck before it went too far.

* * *

Search Jo. Hell and damnation. Dean gritted his teeth together so hard his jaw ached. After ignoring his attraction to Jo, should he really be proposing this kind of plan? It could lead to all sorts of trouble if they were right -- and heaps more if they were wrong.

This was a bad idea, but what could they do? If it _was_ Meg and she'd locked herself in, they needed to find the binding link in order to break it before any devil's trap would hold her or exorcism work.

They were right about her being possessed. He knew it. He could feel it in his gut. What clinched it though, was her expression when she first stepped in to the cabin. Malice, anger, and hate all rolled into her eyes for the span of only a couple seconds. In those seconds, Jo's features had hardened and she most certainly wasn't the Jo he and Sam knew.

"Hey, Jo…" Dean glanced at Sam. "What's say you stay here with us? No sense wasting money on another cabin when we've got room."

She shut the door and leaned back against it. "Pretty close quarters."

"Not like we've never shared a place before," Sam said, smoothing the covers on one bed.

Jo watched him. "Sure."

"We'll build up the fire, stay in." Crossing his arms, Dean leaned on the wall by the door. "Get reacquainted."

His proposal was met with a smile. "What about meals? Gotta eat sometime."

"You could run back in a pick up some stuff. Enough for a few days…." He leered at her just a little.

"Why me?"

"You're parked behind us."

"Good point." She laughed. "Okay. Okay. All the essentials, right? M&M's, beer, beef jerky. Sure. Contribute some cash and I'll go."

He and Sam both forked over cash, watched her car disappear and set to work on the room.

* * *

"Dean."

He glanced up from setting the poker in the fire. "Yeah?"

Sam sighed. "What if she's not possessed? What if this really is Jo and she's just…a little kinky under it all? I mean, we don't know her that well. Maybe she _is_ a little twisted." He was grasping at straws and knew it. He'd seen that malicious, predatory expression on her face earlier.

"If we strip her down and there's no charm burned on her anywhere, the devil's trap doesn't trap her, and the holy water has no effect, then I say we both have one massive attack of conscience, as hard as…" he stopped, pursed his lips a second. "Poor choice of words, but likely apropos." He continued on. "As _difficult_ as that may be to resist her while she's all sprawled out naked and horny. Very naked. Very, very horny." He cleared his throat.

With a grimace, Sam finished covering the symbol under the bed. If Jo was awake inside while the demon had control, he didn't think she'd react well to Dean's plan once the demon was gone. Maybe he was wrong. It'd be best if he was and Jo didn't mind.

Dean cocked his head to one side. "Hurry up, she's back." He walked across the room to Sam. "Okay, I'll take her front, you take her back. Be thorough."

"Why do _you_ get to take her front?"

He shrugged and in typical Dean reasoning replied, "I'm older," like it was a valid reason.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Sure it does."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "You just want to feel her up."

Dean's expression was innocent and wounded at the same time. "Dude, that hurts."

"It's the truth."

"Is not. I don't _just_ want to feel her up. I'm completely dedicated to protecting Jo's welfare. It's a pure motive."

Sam narrowed his eyes, unable to stop the derisive snort that left him. "Pure motive, my ass. That's bull and you know it. You want to feel her up and that's it."

"As long as she's offering and Ellen's miles away. Besides," Dean crossed his own arms, "_you_ got to grope her ass. All I got was a sniff of perfume and glimpse of cleavage."

"I never touched her ass and you're being childish."

He pointed at Sam, "You get to grope her ass," then at himself, "I get to do her front. That's only fair."

Sam rolled his eyes. This was a stupid, pointless argument.

"It's a dirty job, yeah, but someone's gotta do it."

"I can do her front just as well as you can."

Dean's left eyebrow slid upward as though oiled.

Outside, a car door slammed and footsteps crunched to the door.

* * *

Meg removed her shoes at the door rather than track slushy mess onto the carpet. It was something she thought Jo would do, though she'd never actually observed her doing that. That done, she set the bags on the table and padded in sock feet to Dean and Sam. They were standing in the middle of the room by the two double beds, had stoked fire while she was out, and found some candles.

"What's this?" She looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean, flashing a flirtatious smile. It was one she'd been practicing. Jo's features were perfect for that sort of smile. "Candles and a fire in the fireplace. How romantic."

Dean sauntered close, hands stretching out to grasp her hips and draw her to him. He turned her, putting Sam at her back, who also moved against her. Sam's touch was lighter than Dean's, running along her arms and up to move her hair over her shoulder, giving his lips easy access to the nape of her neck.

Her eyes widened a fraction. What was _this_ development?

"You know," Dean's tongue slipped out, flicked across his lips, "Sammy and I have been talking and we've decided it wouldn't be right to fight over you, but, uh, I think," his fingers slid along the waistband of her jeans to the snap and zipper, "we can come to some sort of," he leaned down, kissed the side of her mouth as he undid the snap and lowered the zipper of her jeans, "arrangement."

Meg froze, the tiny suspicion growing that they were up to something. She glanced about the room again. "Really?" They had to be up to something, but what? There was nothing different in the room that was obvious aside from the fire in the fireplace and the candles and even the fire wasn't odd. There'd been a fire burning low before she'd left. "Let me get this straight." Grasping his shirt, she looked up at him with a raised brow. "You're proposing to…share me?" Meg licked her lips slowly, savoring the sight of his gaze dipping to watch the movement.

While Dean seemed the type to be amenable to such an arrangement, she hadn't thought Sam would be. How surprising. That was something she hadn't learned from Sammy-boy those days she'd been in him.

Dean shrugged. "Why have just one of us when you can have both? Double the fun." His hands slid under the waistband of her jeans, fingers sliding on the silky panties she'd put on, beginning to inch her jeans down. Suddenly, there was that cocky Dean grin, the one that he assumed no woman could resist. "You like to have fun, don't you?"

"Kinky." Meg grasped his wrists, stilling that movement of his hands. "Easy there, Slick. Can't just go for the gold like that. What makes you think I'm that kind of girl?"

"The past few hours. You are just _full_ of surprises."

Sam seized the moment to nibble along the side of her neck to her ear. His silent sensitive bit was less annoying than Dean's talkative über confidence. What did Jo see in Dean anyway? Sam was the real prize of the two in Meg's opinion. Sam was the challenge. He released her arms, reached through the space between her arms and body, undoing the buttons on her blouse in a manner that suggested he'd had plenty of practice.

"Well," she turned her head, leaning back against him a little, "someone's taking agreement for granted. Not confident or anything, are you?"

"Don't play coy, Jo." Sam's breath was hot in her ear, causing a shiver of pleasure.

She let him take the blouse from her and before it was even to the floor he was back against her. She smirked a little. This was seriously looking less and less like something potentially dangerous to her and more and more like racy sex. Raising one arm, she tangled her fingers in Sam's hair as he kissed her neck. "How do you want me to play, Sammy?"

"I'll get back to you on that," he replied, smoothing a hand down her back.

She returned her gaze to Dean, looked at him with eyes half closed. "Gonna just stand there, Dean? Let Sam have all the fun?"

For the fraction of a second, there was an unfathomable glint in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, Dean smiling again. "Can't have that." Bending, he kissed her full on the lips, though it was hardly what she'd been expecting. The kiss was sweet and gentle to a puke inducing extent.

Meg had to force herself not to roll her eyes. "You call that a kiss?"

"Teaser maybe?" He touched her arms, ran his fingers along them, then moved to her sides, palms flat.

"Oooh, are you gonna tease me, Dean?"

"I'm gonna do lots of things to you. Promise. You won't believe some of things I'm going to do."

She certainly believed he _thought_ she wouldn't believe.

Sam grasped the waist of her jeans, taking up where Dean had left off in easing them down over her hips. He was careful of the bandage on her hip.

"Impatient much, Sam?"

"Maybe a little. Can you blame me? After that display with the ice cream cone?"

Meg rolled her hips back against him. "Then someone besides me needs to be losing some clothes, boys."

He obliged her, removing both his shirts and tossing them aside.

"Don't you worry about that…Jo. We'll all lose things when the time is right." Dean crouched down, tugging the jeans down her legs, spending more time caressing her legs than working the jeans all the way off.

"Like what you see," she asked.

"I always have." He finally pulled the jeans the rest of the way off, set them aside and tugged his t-shirt off. Her socks followed, Dean raising one foot and pressing kisses up one leg starting at her knee. Each kiss was slow, his tongue swirling on her skin. He was extremely thorough in his explorations.

Sam's fingers splayed across the bandage. "Does this hurt?"

"Not really. It's nothing. It's half healed already." Meg grasped his hand, sliding it off the bandage. "There are far better places to touch me than some bandage on my hip."

"Just curious," he explained, obliging her by dragging both hands across her belly and up to her breasts, reaching for the front catch to her bra.

Jo's body was wonderfully responsive to both of them. Meg loosed her hold on Jo enough that Jo could feel what was happening. Immediately, Meg knew the full depths of Jo's panic, confusion, and fear. All increased when Sam's hands undid the catch of her bra, eased it from her and proceeded to prove he was every bit as capable as Dean.

Jo was terrified of Sam.

Oh, how sweet, Meg thought. I made an impression!

Dean's mouth reached her hip, bypassed the bandage and trailed kisses across her belly. Meg gasped as he sucked at a spot about an inch beneath her bellybutton. The panties she wore were gone in seconds, Dean twirling them on one finger and letting them fly across the room.

She was turned, Sam's mouth coming down hard upon hers, the very sort of kiss she'd expected from Dean. He lifted her against him.

* * *

Her innocence was gone.

That was what suddenly struck Sam with all the force of a hammer between the eyes. The Jo they knew had a sort of innocence wrapped about her. It wasn't a physical thing, nor was it emotional or even plain naivety. This sort of innocence was deeper. Spiritual. While Jo had never expressed her beliefs to him, he thought of her as light. Perhaps light was a better word than innocence?

She was a light that burned in bright determination to force away the growing darkness in the world.

But that light was gone from her, so completely extinguished that he knew without one doubt that she was possessed, for even a bitter, broken Jo would still carry a bit of her light. That was how integral it was to the fabric of her being.

Anger rose inside him as that revelation cemented in his mind, along with a fresh determination to free Jo from the demon's grip no matter what it took.

* * *

They couldn't seem to decide which one got her first, so Meg made an executive decision, pushing Dean down onto one bed and straddling him.

* * *

Dean frowned over Jo's back, zipping his gaze to the fireplace and back. 'Now', he mouthed.

Sam pointed a finger at Jo's hip, still covered with the bandage. It was the last place to look for a mark. They needed to clear that spot and face whatever repercussions there were for whatever was beneath the bandage.

Dean's features scrunched into an annoyed grimace, then smoothed out as Jo shifted.

How in the hell were they going to do this without getting killed?

Sam scrambled to reach for the massage oil mixed with holy water -- Dean's idea -- as Jo sat and called out.

* * *

Meg sat up, distracted from leaving a huge hickey on Dean's neck by the realization that Sam wasn't there. She turned her head, listening. "What are you doing, Sam?"

"Waiting," he replied, coming into her line of vision. His left hand was behind his back.

She tensed. "For what?"

"My turn of course." He held out a little bottle.

It was massage oil. Meg tossed her head back and laughed. "You want a show?" How had she not discovered this bent that week?

"I want to rub this all over your back." His lips curved in a smirk. "And anywhere else that tickles your fancy."

"Mmm. And here I thought Dean was the naughty one." She climbed off of Dean and patted the bed. "Don't keep a girl waiting, Sam."

* * *

Sam poured a tiny amount of oil into his palm as Dean slid from the bed. He set the bottle aside, working the oil across both palms.

Now or never, he told himself, straddling her. Push came to shove, if Jo was possessed, she could throw them both about the room easily. Taking a deep breath, he placed one palm on her back and the other at the bandage, pressing with one hand even as he pulled the bandage away.

Her flesh sizzled. Jo screamed, bucked beneath him.

Under the bandage was the same mark that had been on his arm. He had a single moment to notice before all his energies were taken up with keeping her flat.

What was taking Dean so long with that poker?

A second later he was airborne.

* * *

Why am I the one always getting my ass kicked, Dean asked himself. He sat up with a groan, reaching for the poker again. If they didn't get this taken care of soon, they'd have to reheat the poker. He couldn't see the demon giving them a few minutes to get their act together.

The demon knelt in the middle of the bed, those black eyes horrible in Jo's face. "Weren't we having a good time? Don't you like her, Sam? Dean, don't you want her either? Isn't she hot? Look at this body, boys. Honestly, are you going to tell me you don't want to tap this bitch? Poor, poor little Jo-Jo --"

"Shut up," he growled, trying to ignore the ache in his back from where he'd slammed against the table. He was going to have a helluva bruise tomorrow.

"-- wanting it so bad from both of you and you treat her like this? Would it kill you to be fucking gentlemen for once?"

Sam began to speak the Latin phrases. Dean drew in a breath and waded back into the fight.

* * *

Sam watched the demon flee from Jo's body and disappear under the crack of the outside door. Jo was very still, terribly so, her face so pale it appeared bloodless. At a glance, he couldn't tell if her chest rose and fell with breath or not. He raised a hand, wiped his brow, flicking away the sweat that had gathered there. For a moment there, he'd been afraid there was something they'd missed, that the demon had another mark on Jo somewhere.

He heard Dean groan from the floor on the other side of the bed. Slowly, his head and shoulders appeared at the bed edge. "I hate the part where they fight." He heaved himself to his feet and looked down at Jo. "Tell me she's still breathing, Sam," he asked. "I do _not_ want to have to tell Ellen that Jo was possessed and the demon rode her until it killed her."

Bending over her, Sam touched her jaw, turning her face towards him, feeling for her pulse on her neck. He was relieved to find it stable and strong. "She's breathing, pulse is steady."

Jo gasped, her eyes opening. Recognition lit her gaze, immediately followed by terror and before Sam could say anything even remotely reassuring, Jo let out a scream that clearly conveyed her fear. She rolled, scrambled to the headboard and crouched there, curled as though trying to protect herself.

Oh my God, he thought. She's afraid of me.

Sam straightened and took a step back, trying not to show how the scream affected him. Jo was afraid of him. Of _him_. He took another step away and reached for his clothes.

* * *

Jo opened her eyes with a gasp, then screamed to find Sam's face inches from hers and his hand on her neck. Irrational fear slipped over her. No matter how many times she'd told herself the man who'd attacked her had been demon possessed, coming face-to-face with him like this was a bit too close for comfort. She moved, sitting and putting the headboard at her back.

I'm naked, she thought. Shit, shit, shit!

Drawing her legs up, she registered Dean on the other side of the bed and a pain in her hip. "Son of a bitch, that hurts!" Her hip felt like the flesh was burning away. She blinked. There wasn't a way to keep the quiver from her voice and Jo didn't bother to try. "Why am I naked? One of you please tell me this isn't what it looks like."

Sam drew on his t-shirt.

Dean bent to retrieve her blouse and leaned over the mattress, placing it near her. "It's kind of what it looks like."

"But not really," Sam added, keeping his distance as he finished dressing.

"How so 'kind of but not really'?" Did that even make sense? Jo spread the garment across herself, wondering where the rest of her clothes were. Her heartbeat was racing inside her chest, hands shaking.

Sam knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. "Well, we were trying to trick the demon inside you. Make it think one thing --"

"When we really had something rather different in mind," Dean interrupted, drawing on his t-shirt. "We needed to be convincing."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Jo noticed Sam kept his eyes on her face as she considered the question. She didn't like his eyes anymore. She remembered all too clearly how mockingly cruel his stare had been weeks earlier. "Hard to say really. I'm not sure if I'm remembering anything that happened or if I'm remembering a dream. I…I have nightmares sometimes." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, not caring that she'd revealed her trouble sleeping. Surely they suffered nightmares too? It had to be a hazard of hunting life. "I was getting dressed when it appeared. I remember that bitch telling me what she had planned like it was a game to pass the time before she moved on to other things."

"She?" Dean sat on the end of the bed, snagging a pair of jeans from the floor and tossing them up by her. As they not only didn't look big enough for either of them and she was the only one without pants on, Jo numbly concluded they were hers. A second later her red panties followed, along with the matching bra. "She wouldn't happen to be the same hell spawn who touched Sam in places no woman's ever touched him before would she?" He waited for her reply and when Jo hesitated, he prodded, "Duluth?"

She flushed, holding the blouse to her as though it was a shield to protect her. "I remember it, Dean, and yeah, it was her. She said she noticed me because I had gumption. She'd been watching me. Planned on being me awhile." Jo shrugged, trying to ignore that uncomfortable memory of Sam towering over her in Duluth, so very much stronger than her, and the alarm that had lanced through her knowing that whatever he had planned she wouldn't be able to fight him. It had been a relief to discover he was possessed. "What tipped you off that it wasn't me?"

They exchanged a weighted look that conveyed much more than she could decipher in her current state of mind.

"What _didn't_ tip us off?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Jo, I want you to get one of these nifty tattoos like we've got. It'll keep Meg from trying a repeat performance in you. Get your clothes on. We'll go right now."

She stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment, then tried to pretend a lighter mood than she felt. "Sure, _mom_. You mind maybe turning your back first?"

"Do I look like Ellen and no, I don't mind. I'll even step outside in the snow and cold. How's that for chivalry?"

"You're a prince, Dean, just turn around," Jo snapped. "And if I squint and turn my head, you do sort of resemble my mom in a twisted sort of way, along with acting like her. Bossy much?"

"Cranky much?"

Sam stood up. "Go easy on her Dean. You'd be cranky too." He pointed to the door. "We'll be outside. Come on."

"For all we know, Meg's still hanging around hoping for a second shot when we're not paying attention. You can be damn sure that stunt we pulled on her won't work twice. Go get her one of the amulets." He tossed Sam his keys.

With a sigh, Sam opened the door, stepping outside. Jo heard the trunk of Dean's car slam and then he was back, holding a necklace out to her. "Jo, put this on. You'll wear this until the tattoo is done. Happy Dean? Let's give her some privacy."

She took it, put it on. "All protected. Scram." Once she was sure they weren't standing right outside the door waiting, Jo put her forehead to her knees and closed her eyes. She felt shaky, a bit feverish, like she was coming down with something. Swallowing hard, she reached for her clothes. The mark on her hip stung, a constant throbbing pain, and she looked down at it. It was ugly, red, and inflamed. The best thing to do would be to have one of them bring her some ice for it, but Jo just wanted to be covered. She knew she'd pay for that decision later.

Jo found her own bag, rifled through it until she found bandages, then taped one across the mark before starting to get dressed.

In the back of her mind was the remembrance of hands and lips on her body. Dean's, Sam's. It all blurred together. She remembered…some of what had happened. Dean's lips on her stomach, his hands running along her legs. Sam's hands on her breasts.

Jo's stomach lurched, but it was only dry heaves. Nothing forceful enough to bring up anything she'd eaten.

In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection. She looked shell-shocked, eyes as wide as they'd go and lower lip trembling, her face white under the light.

Talk about pee your pants terror.

She gripped the vanity, taking a deep breath in the hopes of steadying herself. Mixed on her skin were the scents of their aftershave and her own perfume. A sob left her and she shook her head.

I won't cry, she told herself. I won't. Not where they can hear me. Never where they can hear me.

It took long minutes to collect herself enough to join them outside.

"I'll drive your car, Jo." Dean held out his hand for the keys.

Jo fished them from her pocket. "Fine."

"Follow us, Sam."

She saw him nod as she got into the passenger side of her car.

* * *

Jo was shivering in the passenger seat. Dean hoped it was only shock. He flipped the heater on high. "You do know Sam would never hurt you, right? In Duluth --"

When she spoke, her voice was low. "Sam _did_ hurt me."

"It wasn't Sam doing the hurting. It was the demon inhabiting him."

"Tell that to my body. I know he was possessed, Dean. That doesn't make it any easier to wake up and see him that close. _Again_. He's taller than me, stronger than me, and yeah, it's gonna be a long ass time before I can be in a room with him without wanting to reach for the nearest weapon. I can't trust him, not yet."

He drove, mulling that over for a few minutes before asking, "Do you trust _me_?"

"I'm alone in my car with you aren't I?"

She didn't stop shivering even as the car warmed. Had to be shock. "You need sugar, blanket, anything?"

"I'll be fine. I shook for hours after you left in Duluth and I got over it."

"It's no trouble, Jo. We'll swing through McDonald's, get you a large coffee, lots of sugar. Shot or two of whiskey."

Jo crossed her arms over her breasts, slouched down in the seat. "Stop it. Don't act like you care. It's insulting."

Don't care? Cared more than he should was more like it. "What makes you think I don't care?"

"Please. I'm not stupid, Dean. You never called to see how I was, a real testament to your affection. If you cared you would have called after you said you would."

He winced. She did have a point. "Yeah, okay, I was a dick about that, I'll agree, but I do care, Jo."

She snorted. "Pull over."

"What? Why? You gonna puke?"

"Pull over," she yelled.

Pulling to the side of the road, he put the car in park, expecting her to open the door and hurl.

Instead, Jo unbuckled her seatbelt and turned. Anger rolled about in her eyes. "Get out of my car. Now. Get out. I mean it."

He stared at her a beat trying to see what emotion besides anger was there inside her. "No."

She sucked in a breath, a flush rising on her cheeks. "Dean! Get out!"

There, in Jo's gaze, he found her fear, her pain, her embarrassment…and a helluva lot of anger. Jo was seriously pissed. "Make me."

Raising one fist, she let a punch fly.

The front seat of any car wasn't the best place for a brawl, but it kept Jo contained, unable to put any real force behind her hits. She couldn't do him too much damage. Dean had no trouble fending her off and when he had an opening, he grabbed her, pulling her tightly to him, pressing her face to his chest.

"Let go of me!" She struggled against him, nearly slipping his grasp several times. It took long minutes for her to weaken, lose momentum and need to rest between frantic bursts of energy to escape. Her vocabulary was nicely varied, enough so that Dean noted a few phrases he'd not heard before, pretty impressive all in itself.

At last, she calmed and he released her. He had seconds to realize his mistake in thinking her calm before she was kicking him.

* * *

Jo waited until he thought she had no fight left and released her, then turned her back to the passenger door and started kicking him. "Get out of my car!" She kicked hard and fast, her goal only to get him away.

"Jo, damn it, stop kicking me!"

Back and forth they went until he opened the door and got out, turning and reaching for her. Jo scrambled to take the driver's seat herself before he could get a grip on her ankles. One well-placed kick sent him reeling back. She hurried to slam and lock that door, then the rest, keeping him out. She could see him getting mad too, bracing himself with one hand on the hood and the other roof, staring at her.

"This is childish," he barked. "Open the doors."

She adjusted the seat and mirrors as though he wasn't even there. As she did, something crucial occurred to her. Cracking the window, she glared at him. "Whose idea was it to strip me completely?"

"Jo --"

"Say it!"

"Unlock the doors."

"Say it," she bit out through clenched teeth.

"Will you calm down?"

"Damn you, Dean, just admit it was your idea."

"Yeah, it was mine and I'd do it again to get that bitch demon out of you! We had to find that binding!"

"Did it even occur to you how I might feel about waking up naked like that, with you and Sam both looming over me? Both of you?"

"What were we supposed to do, Jo? You wanna tell me that, because I had no other ideas."

"Oh, let me think. How about the usual tricks? Holy water, devil's trap, salt…. All of which could have been used without _taking my clothes off_." Jo sniffed, willing herself not to cry and failing. Tears clouded her vision. "How could you? I mean, being used as bait is one thing, but stripping me naked when there wasn't any real reason to? You did it because you could; because you wanted to, and you thought this gave you an excuse. That's just…creepy. Wrong. And Sam went along with it? Shit, that's messed up on so many levels." Never mind that he hardly needed an excuse to strip her naked. Jo would have willingly stripped for him before this. But now? She felt betrayed, embarrassed. Mortified beyond belief. She'd rather be miles away from there right now. She wanted to erase being naked and vulnerable, needing rescue one more time.

"Are you perhaps unaware you had a demon inside you who was going to do that to you herself?"

"But _she_ didn't do it. You two did." Jo laughed. It had a hysterical tone to it. "It wasn't her directing my hands to undress me. It was you and Sam, touching and kissing me like it was the free love hour. She let me wake up for some of that, Dean." Jo curled her hands into fists in her lap. "I was awake when you had your mouth on my stomach. And when Sam kissed me and…." Jo dragged in a breath, swallowing several times to try and stave off the urge to start sobbing. " H-how was any of that necessary? All she had to do was act somewhat like me, wiggle my ass, and shake my tits and you were falling all over yourselves to undress me looking for a mark that, for all you knew, wasn't even _there_."

"Devil's trap doesn't hold a demon with that binding. The binding has to be broken for the trap and exorcism to work. I made that mistake with Sam last time and I wasn't about to make it again."

She gripped the steering wheel, shaking her head. "I am so done with you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I swear I'll run over your feet if you don't move. I'll do it, Dean. Don't test me."

"You'll do no such --" He leapt back as she put it in drive and let up on the brake. "Don't do this, Jo. Come on."

"Don't call me. Not that you would anyway. And tell Sam not to call either, okay?" Jo pushed the accelerator a little too hard and ended up spraying slushy gravel onto Dean as she pulled onto the road. In the rearview mirror, she saw him make a grab for the car, but then she rounded the bend and he was gone from sight.

* * *

Dean waited in the middle of the road for Sam to catch up, wondering what had gone so wrong in Jo's car. She'd freaked out. Totally. Hadn't even listened to reason. It made sense right? Find the binding before anything.

Sam pulled up and put the Impala in park, rolling down the window. "Dean, what happened? Where's Jo?"

He jerked open the driver's door. "Jo declines to continue our acquaintance."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She kicked me out of her car. Literally. Move over, Sam. I'm driving."

"We're going after her, right?" He moved across to the passenger side.

Dean got in the car, stared at the road ahead for the span of two breaths, then shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because," Dean started as he turned the car around to go back to the cabin. "It's over. The lady says lose her number. It's pretty plain what she wants."

"She doesn't mean it. She's just hurting right now. Embarrassed, scared. We'll give her some time to cool down and call her this time. Both of us."

Dean drove in silence until they were nearly there, thinking about Meg and Jo and those things Jo had said.

_All she had to do was act somewhat like me, wiggle my ass, and shake my tits and you were falling all over yourselves to undress me looking for a mark that, for all you knew, wasn't even there. _

_But she didn't do it. You two did. It wasn't her directing my hands to undress me. It was you and Sam, touching and kissing me like it was the free love hour. _

Damn. This was never about him and Sam was it? It was all about Jo.

"We won't call her. She meant it. And Meg got exactly what she was aiming for. Score one for the creature feature."

Sam shook his head. "What do you mean, she got what she was aiming for? What did Jo say to you?"

"Why did she really go to Jo last time? She could have taken you straight to Bobby's. Why make that side trip then and why jump into her now?" He pulled into the parking place. "She was working on Jo, seeing how well she could get in her head and mess with her. Think about it, Sam. Maybe it was only an idea when she was running you, but she went back to her. This time wasn't about us, not really. It was about pushing Jo away from us and hurting her and she succeeded on all counts. I don't see Jo forgiving us anytime soon."

"We were trying to save her."

"Yeah, well Jo doesn't see it that way."

* * *

Jo drove as long as she could before exhaustion claimed her. She checked in to a motel. It was a dive like all the others she stayed at anymore, but it seemed clean enough.

She stripped, throwing the red underwear in the trashcan, and stepped into the shower. Under normal circumstances, Jo liked her showers so hot that her skin was red when she got out and this time was no different. The water didn't seem warm enough no matter how low she turned the cold tap. Steam rolled throughout the bathroom. Jo stood beneath the spray, gulping in the humid air, wishing somehow that the past hours would disappear from memory. When her fingers started to prune, she turned off the water.

Wrapped in a towel, and holding a bag of ice to her hip, she curled on the bed, crying out all of her embarrassment and pain. How could they? How could they think that it'd be acceptable to do that to her?

It was dawn before she slept and when Jo woke, she did so with a greater determination than ever to do her bit of good in the world. She got dressed and began to make plans. She'd forget Sam and Dean Winchester, put them from her mind if it was the last thing she did.

The amulet remained about her neck and sometimes she'd clasp it, and remember that wounded look in Dean's eyes when she'd left him there in the road.


End file.
